


His Melody

by Sjazna



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Game Spoilers, Gérald's POV, I adore Gérald and Aveline they are adorable together, Post-Game, general cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjazna/pseuds/Sjazna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gérald always hummed to himself when he was alone: the tunes helped him to stay calm, created a comfortable bubble to exist in, and pushed some of the concerns for Aveline's well-being aside when she was out on missions. He had done it for so long that he barely reflected on the fact that he did anymore, although he only ever felt relaxed enough to do so when he was on his own.</p><p>So when Aveline returns to the bureau unexpectedly, having entered the room without him noticing her, Gérald finds himself more awkward than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Melody

Numbers were always less boring when there was a tune to go with them. Not to say that he specifically hummed his songs _to_ or _about_ the numbers he ardently filled the pages of the company lodgers with (as neatly and precise as possible), only that humming along while doing it made the job so much more soothing.

In truth he didn’t know when he had even started doing it. Perhaps in his youth, after the nightmares that occupied most of his nights and left him empty and terribly alone, when singing the songs his mother had once sung him to sleep with was a comfort and a caress. Perhaps it had stuck from that time: he certainly felt a similar soothing feeling now, and he admittedly still sung to himself the nights when worry and old wounds took their toll on him.

When the nightmares crept back into his periphery.

When Aveline was out on a particularly dangerous mission.

When his worry and the panic crawled back up and nested in the back of his mind, his chest, his stomach, he still sang to himself, even if the first few notes were always shaky and hoarse. And with time they always helped. Always calmed his frayed nerves until he could return to sleep. Return to work. Trust in Aveline’s skills and that she would return to the bureau, if not unharmed then at least alive. 

And he hummed now, working along with the numbers and the orders and the invoices, making the work bearable and filled the silence that otherwise occupied the empty room.

The presumably empty room.

“My, monsieur Blanc, that is a lovely voice.”

Flinching at the sudden input, Gérald felt a split moment’s strike of terror, followed by a wave of relief that he had not stained the page with ink — it would have ruined his hard work and literally put a spot on his records.

He prayed that the heat he felt creeping up his cheeks was not as visible as he feared.

“Aveline.” He praised himself for not stuttering. “I did not see you come in?”

“I noticed,” she smiled wryly: that quirk of her lip that he adored and that made his stomach tingle. 

He tried not to think too much about it.

She was dressed for a mission— No, dressed for a mission that had already been handled, judged on the dust on her side, the blood stains on her sleeves and the scratches on her left hand. They were already healing and did no longer bleed, but he could see that they had been, if only a little. She was not fresh from the kill, however: her smile came effortlessly and her eyes rested calmly on him rather than darting between objects. She had finished the kill smoothly, and not been hunted by guards on the way.

He wouldn’t admit out loud how relieved the sight made him. After all, he trusted her to do a great job, because he knew how deadly she was. How fluently she moved, the grace and caution she showed on missions. However, he also knew that while she had great skill, so had many of the guards — and accidents did happen. Even for Aveline.

Rather than think about that though, he rose and took a step around the desk, gesturing towards the changing room as he tried to hide his embarrassment with more practical matters.

“I... suppose that you are here to change? The room is ready for you, of course.”

“Thank you, Gérald, I appreciate it.”

She gave him a nod, another smile — less quirky, more grateful — and walked by him while taking off her hat and loosening the neck piece in order to remove it. Gérald merely stepped out of her way, fluently moving towards the chair again so that he could resume his work. Seeing Aveline return after a mission reminded him yet again why he needed to devote himself to it. It was Aveline’s cover, but also their funding — her father’s legacy. While Aveline seemed to be all about her work in the assassin brotherhood — the stalking, the killing, the justice and freedom for all — he knew that the company stayed close to her heart for what it represented to the person Aveline, not only the assassin.

And thus it meant a lot to him as well.

“Gérald?”

Blinking, he turned just as he had been about to sit down, catching sight of Aveline in the doorway - smiling curiously.

“Yes?” he asked, a bit sheepishly but no less eager to help if there was anything that she lacked. His mind already supplied a list of what he could have forgotten to prepare in the other room. Towels, perhaps? Or maybe water for the washing bowl?

“What was that song you sang when I arrived?” she asked curiously, and he immediately felt his face heat up again.

“I—” Hesitating, he soon turned his gaze to the desk and carefully moved the ink well an inch to the left. “Just an old nursery rhyme, nothing special.” 

“Oh.” 

There was a moment of silence, during which Gérald felt as though he could faint from the sheer tension in the room. What if she asked him further about the song? He had no idea what he would answer, or how. It was such a frail part of him, and he hadn’t yet readied himself enough to let Aveline see it. She wasn’t without flaws and weaknesses — he if anyone knew that — but neither was he comfortable with exposing himself to her scrutiny — or worse, her pity.

Luckily, he didn’t have to. Though her next words did bring him slightly out of balance nevertheless:

“Would you sing me another?”

Blinking, he yet again looked up to her, mouth slightly agape as he gathered his wits, frowning as he replied:

“I, uhm, I... Of course. I mean, if you would like me to, then surely...?”

“I would love to, Gérald. You have a very lovely singing voice: I’d love to hear it more often.”

“I... oh. So... what would you like to hear?”

She smiled softly, and while he didn’t want to speculate in why she did — or he would undoubtedly ruin what precious moment they currently shared and break the frail, unexpected joy in his chest — he couldn’t help but take the softness as a token of appreciation and affection.

“Sing me your favourite song? I promise not to interrupt, or bother you while you do.”

He wet his lips, but nodded, and the smile she gave him in turn was the sole encouragement he needed to sit down, pick up his quill and clear his throat. While he had many favourite songs, he chose to simply start over on the one he had sung as she arrived. 

The first couple of notes were shaky, and he had to pause briefly at one point to take a sip of water against the dryness of his mouth, but as Aveline kept her promise to not interrupt or bother him, and as he came to relax in that knowledge, the tune came more fluently. His voice steadied and after a while he drifted back into the comfort he usually experienced solely when singing alone. 

Once Aveline had finished changing, she came back into the office and sat down with a book in one of the armchairs, never once uttering a word to disturb him or ask him to stop — not even when he came to the end of the song and softly continued on with the next. He thought that he heard her hum along at one point, but it was so soft and gentle that it didn’t deter him in the slightest.

It came as naturally to sing around Aveline after that as it was to sing when on his own, and though he suspected that it soothed her as much as it soothed him, he never voiced those particular thoughts out loud. He merely delighted in that what had helped him for so many years could also help her.

**Author's Note:**

> [Caro-kosciuszko](http://caro-kosciuszko.tumblr.com) shared a headcanon for AC Liberation on Tumblr, stating: "Gerald has a lovely tenor singing voice but is too shy to sing in front of anyone. Aveline has heard him sing when he thought no one was around", which was followed by additional suggestions to the HC by [Totallyfrandom](http://totallyfrandom.tumblr.com). Inspired by this, I wrote the above.
> 
> In conclusion, thank you to Caro-kosciuszko and Totallyfrandom for the inspiration - I greatly enjoyed this piece (Gérald is such an adorable sweet potato, he really is).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed ^^


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